


Birthday Wishes

by Zoya1416



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Emperor's Birthday, Gen, Going off to prep school, Gold is boring, The emperor is a child, a horse of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-04-07
Packaged: 2018-01-12 02:12:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zoya1416/pseuds/Zoya1416
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cordelia thinks that the five year old Gregor would like to play with the gold. But a few years later is the ten year old Gregor ready to give it up?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bucking Tradition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anothercrazymom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anothercrazymom/gifts).



> Vorkosigan Saga all belongs to Lois McMaster Bujold.

Cordelia surveyed the little figure in the chair. She could tell he was bored and tired, although trying not to show it. Gregor had been briefed on this thoroughly--he knew well there was nothing interesting in the little bags these men kept handing him, just gold coins. Finally it was finished, and he got to watch his fireworks. After a few small desserts, he was put to bed upstairs in the Residence. If there was anything Cordelia wanted more than anything for Gregor, it was for him to have as normal a childhood as an emperor could. What if they considered his age at his official birthday?--She told Aral, who was surprised and interested, but said, "If we surprise the Counts next year, they won't like it.'

She said, "Take the Vorkosigan bag in to the metalworkers now, and we'll give him ours privately when they finish with it. The news will filter out."

A week after his official birthday Gregor came down for breakfast and saw one of the official moneybags next to his plate. He looked up at Cordelia and Aral and said, puzzled, "Did somebody forget to come to my party?"

"No, but Cordelia and I thought you might like your gold better this way," grinned Aral.

"Open it," urged Cordelia.

Gregor opened the little bag and pulled out a small golden horse, complete in every detail, with a red-and-blue saddle and reins. It glowed with life, standing ears pricked and one foot lifted, ready to command.

" Ohhhh!" he breathed, looking up at them with wonder. "Ohhhh! And it's a boy horse, too!"

"Of course, Sire," said Aral, and then looked sternly at Cordelia, who was threatening to snicker. "We thought it could be the foundation sire of Your stables."

Gregor picked it up and started rocking it along the edge of the table.

The Armsmen in the room were frankly gawking, and one blurted out, "You're not going to let him PLAY with that, are you?"

Gregor looked up, with worry starting in his face.

"Of course he's going to play with it, that's the whole idea," snarled Cordelia, and Aral was again reminded, "Lioness. Cub. Do not cross."

The photographs of the gift circulated throughout Vorbarr Sultana, and any stuffy Counts who thought to disagree were captivated by this charming reminder of Barrayar's cavalry past. The NEXT year, Gregor got fifty more horses for his stable, with all the creativity each District could command. Horses prancing, running, rearing; some mares curled on their sides next to exquisite foals. The horses wore the colors of each district in their saddlery, or occasionally one of the historical Empirical liveries. A few brighter Counts had foreseen that there might be a surfeit of horses, so there were some proud bulls, cows, sheep-a whole parade of little ducks (molded to a bar so they wouldn't stray), grooms, and even a little corral. And later there were barns, stables--plenty for any child. After a few years, and many hysterical screams from the Emperor's tax collectors, Aral signaled that the Counts' gifts could be made in coin again, but one piece in the bag was always just for the boy, whether a small lightflier, a model of the Star Bridge, or the Mountains.

Gregor loved all of them, and played many equestrian games with Miles, Elena, and Ivan, when they were old enough not to gnaw on the pieces. The carpets and tables were carefully vacuumed for gold dust afterwards, but Cordelia put no limits on him. After a couple of years Gregor allowed some to be put in the museum's cases, and he finally packed the rest of them up when he went off to the military prep school. But years later, after the Prince's birth, he brought one box down to show Laisa. She too gasped, "It's a fortune! You can't let the baby touch them."

He smiled a bit crookedly. " He won't be getting any gold presents for a long, long, time. But--if he does--promise me you'll let him start his own stables."

She realized what he meant, and then pressed her head to his. "I will. But he won't need to." She held him and kissed him firmly.


	2. One Horse Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gregor, Miles, Elena, and Ivan play with the golden horses, but there's a problem.

One hundred eighty gold horses don't go as far as you'd think when you have to split them four ways. 

When Gregor, Miles, Ivan, and Elena played this favorite game, they each had forty-five to start with, but negotiations and conquest proceeded from there. Ivan and Elena were content with their allotment, but Miles always wanted more. It wasn't so much that he was greedy (and he never filched from Gregor), but that he was forever thinking up schemes which needed more resources. 

He'd put one little herd of horses to guard a road, and another to prowl around the others' defenses. Then others had to be positioned correctly for battle sweeps, and still more to guard and rescue his soldiers when they needed to retreat.

He would take one of Ivan's ponies to stand guard in a new location, and later one of Elena's because she wasn't using it.

Whether it was because of Barrayaran traditional male viewpoints or her own initiatives, Elena didn't do much of the actual fighting. She became the quartermaster, keeping the supplies of the orange wooden cornucopia pieces of food, the little plastic molded heaps of weapons, the horses' groats. She needed her horses to transport wagons and stand as guards, and would trade to get the exact pieces she wanted. Gregor amused himself by coaxing Elena out of as much as possible.

The game had started out with the first fifty golden horses Gregor had gotten for his seventh birthday. Now it occupied two tables. It was a highly detailed landscape with towns, roads, hills, and trees, some wooden, some plastic. The golden horses had their own stables. No post was more highly desired than that of Gregor's armsman on the days he visited his personal realm.

Which made it more baffling when one of the horses disappeared. The armsman who locked the horses' cases looked over the tables and realized the the children had created quite a number of hiding places. The scenery was built up with copses, lakes and many small buildings. The giant horse alone on the shelf held a bellyful of soldiers, and then there were gorgeous baskets of the horses' various liveries and caparisons. The shelves were full of brightly colored boxes.

At this point he called for help. The horse room had become a sanctum sanctorum for Gregor. It was not as ruthlessly cleaned as other areas, and many more toys had migrated to it. Sealed bins held plastic building blocks. There were other building sets in wood. Neatly folded costumes concealed potential hiding places, and they encountered a zoo's worth of other animal sets. Two maids were co-opted, but after another frantic hour there was nothing. A leather life-size Tau Cetan beaded lizard, quite poisonous in real life, fell onto one of the maids and made her scream.

The armsmen swore themselves as innocent, and willing to undergo formal interrogations. They were herded into another chamber and made to strip, but nothing was found. The children had taken snacks and necessary breaks, but those little areas proved negative. This far into the Residence behind locks doors there were no more than the normal rotating assignments of armsmen. The children, especially Miles, had been severely warned not to remove anything but they were only small children. The senior armsmen and housekeeper finally decided Lady Vorkosigan needed to be told. 

“You're sure it's not in the room?”

“We could search again, but we've been most careful.”

Cordelia knew than many in Vorbarr Sultana disapproved of her allowing the Emperor to play with his Birthday gold in the form of gold horses. Indeed, Aral had recently convinced her that the change back to the traditional bags of gold coins should come with this approaching eleventh birthday.

“And,” she said stalling, “We're up to one hundred eighty now, correct?”

“One hundred eighty-one including the original from Vorkosigan district.”

Implicit in the tone was, “you started this and now it's your fault.”

“I know they're worth—twenty thousand marks?”

“Yes, Lady Vorkosigan. Each.”

Cordelia wasn't taking this as much to heart as they were. It was an enormous amount of money, to be sure, but values varied. Even after this many years on the planet, she still winced at the priceless amount of wood in the Residence which was burned every day. Gold she thought of as a metal useful in electronics.

Besides, the horses had started a craze on Barrayar and had paid for themselves many times over. The Vor and proles alike wanted copies of the Emperor's Stables, and now you could find duplications in every medium from fourteen carat gold to cheap plastic with blurry paint. She had seen and immediately possessed a spectacular set in polished woods. The different colors of wood, from light ash to dark walnut were fascinating to a dome-raised Betan.

The empire's tax collectors, initially aghast at not getting the Birthday gold bags, quickly recovered by copyrighting each piece. The Empire got its share, and each District received royalties also. Even the craftspeople received some royalties, and the net profit to the empire was far more than the cost.

Nevertheless it wouldn't do to lose one.

“Which horse was it?”

Each horse had been named and numbered, and the price for playing with the emperor was to learn them all. But there was no hesitation this time.

“It was the first one. The foundation sire.”

At this point Cordelia was sure where the little treasure must be. She thanked the armsmen and dismissed them, then quietly walked to Gregor's bedroom. It was much more sterile than the playroom, just an old plush stegosaurus, some spaceship models, and a small amount of normal child detritus. She went noiselessly to the bed and saw the emperor holding a little velvet bag against him as he slept. He was so small. She wanted to weep at what Barrayar demanded of its children.

At breakfast the next morning she asked Aral, “Did you talk to Gregor about not getting all the horses this year since he's getting older and he can't take them to the prep school?”

“Yes, yesterday. He has told me before he doesn't play with them as much.”

She shook her head. “He played a huge game yesterday with Miles, Ivan, and Elena, and he slipped the original one—

“The Gold Avenger?”

“Okay, anyway, he slipped that one out and took it to bed with him without telling anyone. They searched for hours. He's not as wiling to give them up as you think.”

Aral frowned. “Well, he can keep them now, but he can't take them away with him.”

“I know, love, but we've got to do something. Besides making him apologize for causing so much trouble for everyone.”

Two weeks later Gregor came down to find a small package at his place on the table. It was wrapped in the silver and black of the Vorbarra livery. When Gregor opened it there was an exquisite little painting of the Avenger, with the Vorbarra livery on saddle and reins. The little horse was rearing, ready to charge at enemies. It was beautifully framed, but not too ostentatious for a student's room.

“Did you paint this for me, Father Aral?”

“Yes, I did. I used to draw quite a bit when I was younger. Cordelia and I thought this would be good to take to school.”

“Thank you. I knew I couldn't bring the Avenger, but—I was thinking about missing everyone.”

“You'll make new friends,” said Aral decisively, when Cordelia would have gone on to let Gregor express himself more.

“I will.” Then his shyness came back, and he said, “Love you bye,” and rushed out of the room.

 

You don't need one hundred and eight horses as much as you think, because only one is necessary to show a child he's loved.


End file.
